


On Becoming Friends

by brilliant_or_insane



Category: Mission: Impossible (Movies)
Genre: Fluff, Found Family, Gen, Picnics, becoming friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:06:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28330602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brilliant_or_insane/pseuds/brilliant_or_insane
Summary: In which the team officially adopts Ilsa (or perhaps she adopts them).
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	On Becoming Friends

**Author's Note:**

  * For [checkered shirt](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=checkered+shirt).



> This is still a bit of a rough draft, but I wanted to get it up while it was at least still Christmas some places! I'll probably clean it up a bit in the next few days.

It was Ilsa, of all people, who arranged it. 

The invitation to a gathering at the park, food and drink to be provided by Ilsa, had taken Benji entirely by surprise. She'd never struck him as the type to arrange informal hang-outs with friends. He would have seen her more as the—well. Come to think of it he has almost nothing to go on when it comes to speculating about what Ilsa is like out of the field. Hell, he never knows what to expect of her _in_ the field.

Perhaps that's why he feels so out of place, standing alone under a birch tree with his styrofoam cup of hard strawberry cider. This ought to be an easy and comfortable gathering, what with Luther, Ethan, Jane, and Brant all being present. (Ilsa hadn't met Jane and scarcely encountered Brant before today and so hadn't invited them, but Jane had found out and invited herself somewhere along the way, dragging Brandt behind her). Sure it had been a bit awkward the first time the five of them had gathered outside the field, none of them quite sure how to behave around one another when not busy panicking over life-and-death crises, but these days such gatherings are not uncommon. The addition of a single new element shouldn't be able to disrupt the comfort they have built. 

But Ilsa is good at disruption. In the two relatively brief periods he and the team have spent around her, she's managed to disrupt their goals at every turn—except of course for the times when she was helping accomplish them. 

The trouble isn’t exactly that Benji still distrusts her; not in the way he did before. Even if she hadn't saved his life in Kashmir, he understands and even respects the choices she’s made, and trusts that she won't bring the innocent to harm in pursuit of her own self-interest. 

Still. She isn't Ethan. Benji isn't at all sure that she won't one day decide that self-interest or the greater good justifies something along the lines of, oh, luring them all to an exposed park to murder them. Okay, probably not murder (probably). But to use them, somehow. Most likely in a way that never would have occurred to him to watch out for. 

At that moment a raised eyebrow from Ethan brings Benji back to himself, and he colors with the realization that he's been watching Ilsa rather intently for some minutes. Self-consciously taking a gulp of his cider, he casts about for a more long-term means of appearing occupied. 

He briefly considers compensating for his rudeness by approaching Ilsa, who is currently in conversation with Ethan (who has been determinedly pretending this isn't weird as shit and making frequent attempts to pull the others into the same performance), and Jane (who hadn’t needed any prodding to beeline for Ilsa upon arrival—although the intensity with which she's levied questions at her has tipped at times towards interrogation). 

Deciding he isn't up for that gauntlet just yet, Benji instead makes for Luther, who is doing his part by trying very hard (with periodic success) to distract Brant from glaring openly in Ilsa’s direction. 

Luther casts Benji a grateful look as he approaches, but before either of them can speak Brant jumps forward with, "What do you think of her, Benji? You've spent more time around her than anyone but Ethan, and his opinion doesn't count." 

"Why not?” Benji asks, a little affronted. 

"He trusts people too easily," Brandt answers. 

Luther raises a skeptical eyebrow, and Benji quite agrees. But agreeing with Brandt about Ethan hasn’t happened yet and isn't likely to happen anytime soon, so he lets it slide.

“Ilsa is … unpredictable. But I like her.” Benji is surprised by how freely the admission comes. “And she saved my life.”

Brandt softens a little. “Alright, yes, and of course I’m grateful for that. But didn’t she try to shoot you before that?”

Benji shrugs. “That doesn’t make her a bad person.”

“Somehow, I don’t find that comforting.”

Luther sighs heavily. “Look, I’m not exactly comfortable with this either," he interjects. "But Ethan has decided to bring her in, so we both know where this is going.”

“We drag our feet and make objections,” Brant intones dully, “Ethan gives a rousing speech about how it’s the right thing to do but for some reason its his sole responsibility and we’re free to stay out of it, then you two assure him you wouldn’t lag on the sidelines for the world, and I trail along behind because who else is going to keep you idiots alive. Something like that?”

“Yeah, more or less,” Luther answers.

“Huh,” says Benji, then tosses Brandt a grin and begins striding towards the other group.

“Wait,” Brandt objects, “you’re gonna just give in?”

Benji pauses and turns. “I’ve been worrying over whether this is a good idea. But you’re quite right—Ethan’s made up his mind, and sooner or later we’ll all decide to brave whatever may come alongside him. I figure we may as well save ourselves some time and get to it.”

“But—you—we—” Brandt splutters, “we have to try! If we don’t the pattern just becomes an endless self-fulfilling prophecy.”

Luther barks a laugh, and Benji shrugs cheerily. “Think of it this way—if you come along now you get to skip the rousing speech!”

With that Benji turns again and sets off, smiling at Luther’s “That’s the spirit,” and ignoring Brandt’s indignant protests.

As Benji approaches Ethan throws him a grateful smile, and Benji decides this was definitely the correct choice. Ilsa also sees him coming and breaks off in the midst of something she’s saying to Jane to wave, opening her mouth as if to say something before realizing Benji is too far off to hear unless she shouts, then simply stands there, looking as if she doesn’t know whether to continue talking to Jane or wait for Benji to arrive.

“Hi again Ilsa,” he says cheerily as Jane takes a step back to let him into the circle.

“Benji, hi!” Ilsa answers, looking relieved to be released from the limbo of waiting, only to immediately fall silent again and glance pleadingly at Ethan, who is himself looking encouragingly at Benji.

Benji, however, struggles to come up with anything himself. Partly because he can't think of a single neutral fact regarding Ilsa’s life that he could lightly inquire about, and partly because he's distracted by her left thumb tapping rapidly against her plastic cup and how rigidly she stands in her jeans and dark green t-shirt, all signs pointing towards a wholly unexpected conclusion.

He should have realized before.

He probably would have, if he hadn’t been busy assessing her as a potential threat.

“Um, thanks for organizing this,” proves the best he can manage. “It’s lovely.”

“Good. Good!” There’s an another pause before she asks, “Do you like your drink?”

“Mmm,” Benji hums, because the only more lengthy response that comes to mind is, _the fact that you only brought the tamest fruity alcohol for drinks is oddly endearing,_ and he’s not sure she’d appreciate that.

At that moment Benji notes Jane and Ethan’s eyes widening in dismay at something behind him, and he closes his own eyes in annoyance a moment before Brandt appears beside him and asks, “Alright Ilsa, what’s all this about?”

Benji groans loudly, Ethan and Jane snap “Brandt!”—Jane sounding exasperated and Ethan outright angry—and Luther draws up beside Brandt, leveling his most effective glare. But any further protests fade as they turn to see Ilsa’s reaction. Her tapping finger stills, uncertainty drains from her posture, and her expression closes. Suddenly she’s the Ilsa Benji knows from the field—the agent it’s hard to know anything about at all, beyond a conviction that she is capable of anything.

“ ‘All this?’ ” she inquires neutrally.

“ _This_ ,” Brandt repeats, “gathering my friends and I together for a casual hang-out as if you hadn't backstabbed us several times—as if we weren't spies from a rival agency!”

“I don’t know if I’d say _rival_ ,” Ethan objects, but aside from the smile that twitches briefly at the corner of her mouth, Ilsa ignores it.

“I didn’t invite you, actually,” she observes instead.

“Yeahhh, that one’s on me,” Jane admits ruefully.

“Regardless,” Brandt brushes the comment aside, “I think I have a right to be suspicious of an agent who has actively worked against—not to mention shot at—my friends on multiple occasions.”

“To be fair, she’s actively worked with us and saved our lives at least as many times,” Ethan puts in.

“I’d say it’s an even 50/50,” puts in Benji, starting to enjoy this.

“Also,” Jane inserts, “you should know I already handled the interrogation.” She casts an apologetic glance at Ilsa. “Sorry about that.”

For a moment Ilsa drops her reserve, turning to Jane with a smile more open than Benji has ever seen. “It’s quite alright Jane, neither of you are wrong to want answers. Besides, it kept the conversation going. I’d have hated to spend the day trying to step around every possible minefield.” She turns back to Brandt, retreating again behind a neutral expression.

“What do you want to know?”

Brandt worries his lip, looking as if he hadn’t expected to be made so free an offering and isn’t sure what to do with it. At last he says: “Mostly, I think, I want to know why.”

“Two reasons,” Ilsa begins without pause. “First, as a thank you. Ethan trusted and helped me before I gave him good reason. Luther accepted me on faith as Ethan's friend. Benji is, quite reasonably, taking his time with the trust—” she tips Benji a quick smile to indicate that she means no accusation, but he feels exposed and guilty all the same, “—but he stood by me regardless, and even risked his life to help me.

“And second, I am lonely.”

This admission is made without shame or hesitation, and the accusation in Brandt's voice sounds a bit forced as he pushes back: “What, people aren’t keen to have a friend who double-crosses them once a month?”

It’s cutting enough to draw a muttered “ _Brandt_ ” from Luther, but Ilsa remains unshaken.

“I had friends, in Britain. Since then I’ve been quite occupied trying to get free, and I wasn’t keen to make friends under false pretenses, certainly not when I’d might have to disappear on them permanently at any time.”

Brandt snorts in derision. “Right, because you value honesty and transparency so very much.”

“I’m pretty sure she does,” Benji jumps in. “You’d think that working as a double agent and all that would require dishonesty, but on the whole she gets along impressively well without it.” He says it because it’s perfectly true, but also because her admission of loneliness had brought on another stab of guilt. She always seemed so self-sufficient, it had never occurred to him that she might be lonely—even though he ought to have understood her isolation better than anyone.

“Hmm,” Brandt responds, and although his next question still carries a challenge, it’s lost some of its aggressive edge. “Alright. Okay. Why us? I mean, them? Are they simply your only option, assuming you do care so much about honesty in your friendships?”

“Certainly not,” Ilsa answers, her voice sharpening marginally for the first time. “I prefer loneliness to any friendship that isn’t on my own terms.”

“Fine. Why, then?”

"Brandt, please," Ethan objects.

“It's alright Ethan, it's a fair question. It's because I don’t like what our agencies do, but I like what they do. And based on what I’ve heard, I believe I can extend that sentiment to you and Jane.” Jane grins at that, and Brandt softens further.

“Not a bad answer, I’ll give you that. Still, after everything you’ve done waltzing in and asking to be adopted into the family seems a bit presumptuous.”

“Oh, I see,” Ilsa says, amusement tinging her voice. “you’re the protective big brother.”

Brandt splutters in protest, but Ilsa hurries on. “I don’t mean it as an insult. It’s sweet. And as for adoption, I haven’t asked for anything of the sort. Who’s to say I’m not the one trying to adopt all of you?”

Ethan laughs. “When you get to know her better, you’ll realize that’s by far the more likely possibility.”

Brandt ignores him, hedging, “You mean trying to adopt Ethan and Benji.”

“Oh, I’ve already decided to include Jane. You’re still on probation, but it’s looking promising.”

By this time Brandt looks as if he’s actively enjoying himself and trying not to let it show. “That's all very 'sweet', as you put it, but you still haven’t explained betraying my friends. Multiple times.”

“You hadn’t asked.”

“Fair enough. I’m asking now.”

“Well, we can walk through every choice if that’s how you want to spend the day. But the big picture is that they weren’t my friends when I met them. You know as well as I that spy work is a series of cost-benefit calculations. Sometimes those calculations landed me on their side, and sometimes against them.”

Brandt nodded appreciatively. “Okay, don’t take this to mean I don’t agree with that; I’m wholeheartedly with you. In fact we could use more of that type of thinking around here.” Brandt cast a quick glare at Ethan, which Benji thought was rather unnecessary.

“But if my friends and I are just numerals in your calculations, what’s to say they we won’t find ourselves on the wrong side of the equation on the next mission?”

“Because, once again, you don’t need to be told that analysis does not preclude emotion or loyalty.”

“You’re saying you won’t work against our interests in the field from now on?”

“No. But I can promise not to harm any of you, to protect your lives as much as possible, and forward your interests as far as my position and conscience allows. Is that sufficient?”

Brandt considers. Then he announces, “You know what? This lot needs someone sensible to get in their way sometimes.”

“Hey!” Benji protests, but Brandt continues as if he hadn’t heard.

“You strike me as sensible, so as long as your conscience isn’t leading you to shoot one of us in the head or detonate a nuclear bomb, that’s enough for me. What’s more, I think I like you.”

All but Brandt and Ilsa break at once into a cheer, and Jane lifts her cup in a toast. Brandt looks annoyed, but Ilsa’s poise crumbles at once, and she appears entirely lost.

And yes—Benji is just about sure now—it really is shyness.

Placing a hand on her shoulder, Benji explains, “If even Brandt likes you, it’s official. You’re in. We accept your offer of adoption. Hell, you’re arguably more ‘in’ than Ethan—Brandt still hasn’t given him the OK.”

“Alright, that’s a lot to read into me not actively hating _one_ conversation,” Brandt objects.

“Be careful, you’re still on probation,” Ilsa shoots back, but when she looks back at Benji her grateful smile is still tentative, and she says, “I hope I didn’t overstep with the adoption … stuff.”

“Not in the least,” Luther answers, stepping forward to take her arm and lead her towards the picnic table, the others following.

“In fact, I’d like to hear more. If Brandt is the overprotective big brother, what’s Ethan?”

“The incorrigible youngest brother,” Ilsa announces without hesitation. “Always running ahead into trouble, but you all would follow him anywhere to keep him safe.”

Brandt rolls his eyes, but the others send a rather uncomfortable and embarrassed looking Ethan smiles of agreement.

“What about me?” Asks Jane, who had hurried forward to take Ilsa’s arm and is now claiming a seat next to her at the table.

“You’re the protective older sister, I think. But punchier and more able to mind your own business than Brandt.”

Brandt groans, but Jane looks pleased and Benji chuckles, saying approvingly, “You’re catching on fast.”

Ilsa grins. “And you, Benji, are the best friend who puts on a show of being the sensible one, but you’re really just as bad as little brother over there.”

“Well, I don’t know if I’m _as_ bad,” Benji begins to protest, but is cut off by snorts of laughter. “Oh come on,” Benji insists, “Ethan starts it at least 90% of the time!”

“85%,” Brandt qualifies.

“That much I’ll grant you,” Luther concedes, “since Brandt probably has the numbers to prove it.”

“I sure do.”

“And you Luther,” Ilsa concludes, “you’re the parent.”

“You bet I am,” Luther accedes with a long-suffering sigh.

“You seem to have a solid read on us,” Ethan says, “I’m impressed. So who are you then?”

“Oh—,” Ilsa freezes, the comfort that had seemed to build over the last minutes slipping away once more. “well, I—it’s hard to say—”

“Mysterious lesbian Aunt,” Jane announces firmly.

“Is that a thing?” Ilsa asks over the approving murmurs of the others.

“I don’t know that it’s any sort of official stereotype," Jane concedes, "but it fits.”

“Alright,” Ilsa laughs, “I’ll take it. Yeah. I think I like that.”

* * *

After an hour or so they begin to trickle off: Luther with a hug, Brandt with a firm handshake, and Jane with clear regret that her prior commitments won’t let her stay longer. Benji, Ethan, and Ilsa linger on, conversation becoming increasingly easy as they begin to learn one another’s rhythms.

As the light fades Ethan begins to shiver, and Benji offers his unused scarf, but Ilsa suggests they head home.

“Alright,” Ethan agrees. “we’ll help with the stuff.”

Between the three of them they get the remaining ciders and foodstuffs and the red-and-white checkered tablecloth to Ilsa’s car in a single trip, then Ethan hugs Ilsa goodbye, and after a moment’s consideration Benji does the same.

“Thanks for organizing all this, Ilsa,” Benji says as he pulls away. “It really was lovely.”

Ilsa smiles—that veiled, ambiguous smile that was all he’d seen before today. “Does today mean you’re starting to trust me?”

“Getting there,” Benji answers easily. “You’ve got to admit you haven’t made it easy, exactly—which I’m not blaming you for, to be clear. You had your reasons, and I respect them.”

“That’s good,” Ilsa answers, but Benji sees her expression shuttering deeper as she turns.

“And that’s one of the reasons,” Benji hurries on, “that I’m taking a leap. Even if it takes a bit longer to feel trust for you, I’m choosing to trust you as of today. Because that’s what we do here.” He casts a smiling glance at Ethan. “In this disaster of a family you’ve adopted, we choose to take leaps of faith—when the risk is worth it.”


End file.
